


Melancholy

by Cibbs



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bathtub, Bentley, Curry, Depression, First Dance, Lost - Freeform, M/M, Menu, Night, Suit, forest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 06:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibbs/pseuds/Cibbs
Summary: Will has tried to kill himself and Hannibal is going to have him at his house for a few days.





	Melancholy

Hannibal puts on his apron and rolls up his sleeves. He pours a cup of red wine, turns on the CD player in the kitchen and puts a CD on the reader. Plays one of his favourite songs, which belongs to Carmina Burana:

Olim lacus colueram,

olim pulcher exstiteram,

dum cygnus ego fueram.

Miser, miser!

modo niger

et ustus fortiter!

Girat, regirat garcifer;

me rogus urit fortiter;

propinat me nunc dapifer.

Miser, miser!

modo niger

et ustus fortiter!

Nunc in scutella iaceo,

et volitare nequeo;

dentes frendentes video.

Miser, miser!

modo niger

et ustus fortiter! (1)

 

He smiles, showing his river stone sharped teeth, when he imagines the situation of the bird of which the song tells.

He softens with his sharpening steel the edge of a carving knife before selecting a purple business card written in white letters which says “O’Connor & Co. Fine suits”. Then, he opens his recipes folder and takes the one for curry sirloin.

Opens the fridge and takes one of the packages that he has delicately vacuum packaged. Rips the plastic with the aid of a pair of scissors and, after putting the meat on a big bamboo board, he carves it in regular pieces and puts it away in a bowl. Now he starts chopping vegetables to prepare the sauce. He starts with a big green pepper, followed by half an onion and ends with a carrot. When the vegetables are ready, he sautés it in a saucepan. He adds a spoonful of curry paste and a can of coconut milk. He puts the sauce in the blender and, some minutes later, he strains it through a muslin.

Turns on the stove and puts a grey iron pot with some corn starch and butter. He toastes lightly the mix and adds the sauce, which heats itself until reaches the boiling point, thickening thanks to the starch. The time for cooking the meat has come. He puts in the saucepan the pieces he has previously reserved, covers it with the lid and lets it cook at a very slow fire.

He takes off his apron and hangs it in a hanger which is behind the door. Then, he gets out of the kitchen and goes to the hall, where breakfast is already prepared. He pours himself a cup of tea from his souvenir of his last trip to Tula, a gleaming copper samovar, that he has placed on the table while he hears steps approaching from the corridor. It’s Will. He wears a dark aquamarine silk robe, clinged to his waist by a golden string ending in its sides by tassels in the the same colour and a pair of black velvet slippers with the Lecters’ coat of arms embroidered in the instep.

He greets Hannibal and sits on the table while the doctor puts his white linen napkin on his lap and, with the handle of the spoon, breaks the shell of one of the hard-boiled eggs. Will takes a toast and spreads butter in it. Both eat in silence. When they have finished, Will leaves the hall while Hannibal picks up the plates.

Hannibal’s sharped hearing gets the sounds from the water splashes and from the clothes of his comrade’s robe and pyjamas reaching the floor. The psychiatrist abandons his job and crosses the corridor until he reaches the bathroom. The door is half-open and he can’t resist the temptation of looking over the mature, elegant and sensual body which has lied down in his bathtub. His neck wounds, a memento of a recent and fruitless suicide attempt, still bleed lightly, graining with a deep red little threads the soapy water.

“Melancholy. An excess of black bile.” Hannibal thinks with bitterness while he goes again to the kitchen. “That was the name the great Hippocrates gave to it.”

He decides to occupy his mind in another thing and starts placing the breakfast plates in the dishwasher. First, he places the plates in the lower tray; the cutlery, in the basket, and ends with the mugs and the cups, which go on the upper part of the machine.

He has been so immersed in his work that he hasn’t realised that Will, wrapped in his silk robe, has entered the kitchen. Hannibal takes the first aid kit that the keeps in a cupboard and takes of it a red glass bottle with iodine tincture, a plastic and paper bag which contains gauzes and a bandage roll. He places everything on a brass tray and accompanies Will to his room.

The young man lies down on the bed while Hannibal dampens one of the gauzes with the iodine. When he feels the burning of the disinfectant on his skin, Will closes his eyes tightly and utters a pain scream, which the doctor silences squeezing his hand.

“Keep calm”. He whispers. “I am here.”

Then, Hannibal rest the point of his tongue on a drop of blood which has recently arisen from Will’s wound.

“Did you just lick me?” He asks, firmly puzzled.

“Well…” Hannibal answers with a guffaw. “…It’s difficult to avoid.”

* * *

Will wakes up after a nightmare night. He closes his eyes firmly. His wounds hurt. Making a great effort, he manages to sit up straight and put his feet on the ground. He takes the robe he put the night before on the bed and observes Hannibal, who sleeps calmly in the armchair. He wears his black silk coat and covers his legs and chest with a red, green and yellow tartan blanket with fleeces on the sides. There is a hardcover leather book on the floor by his side. The young man puts on his coat and slippers in silence, trying not to wake up the doctor. All he can hear is the sound of the wind and the clocks’ tick-tock. But Will isn’t calm. He goes out the room to Hannibal’s office. Something makes him turn around and go to the front door. He turns the handle and goes outside the house.

A couple of hours later, Hannibal opens his eyes and discovers, with amazement and disgust, that the bed is empty. He jumps off the armchair and goes all over the house, looking for Will. He doesn’t find him, so he dresses quickly. He wears over his suit a dark blue raincoat with golden buttons, folds the blanket and puts it on his Bentley’s back seat.

“Damn the hour I felt asleep!” He exclaims.

He puts the key in the contact and exits the garden. Still it hasn’t get light. Just then, it starts to snow. Hannibal turns on the headlights and the windshield wipers, whose sound accompanies him until he reaches the forest entrance.

He stops the car, leaving the headlights on, gets out of the vehicle, puts on a pair of black kidskin gloves and takes a big maroon silk umbrella with a bamboo handle, the blanket and a torch, and penetrates into the forest.

This is one of the few times that he fells scared. He is scared of losing his friend, of the snow, of some animal that could have attacked Will…

After a nearly four hours walk in the forest, Hannibal sees Will lying in a field by the road. He is barefooted, his hair is full of leaves and twigs and soaked to the bone.

“What a relief!” Will thinks while the psychiatrist carries him on his back. Hannibal starts running, unlocks the car, puts the blanket on the back seat and lies the young man delicately on it. “What a chance! I don’t know how he had found me. I don’t understand what has happened, but it has spooked me and Hannibal too.”

* * *

 

Will hears Hannibal’s bitter voice saying “You’re not going to die, you selfish bastard!” while he massages his legs.

Now he fells the heat from a hot water bottle at his feet and Hannibal’s hands massaging his chest.

“Come on! Come on!” Hannibal ejaculates while from his eyes tears well up. “I know you can hear me, you scoundrel!”

Crying ends up in exhaust the psychiatrist and he is unable to continue. He puts his hands on his temples before taking a deep breath. He is going to try to reanimate his friend again.

“Come on! Come on! Breathe, damn it!”

At the first blow on his chest, Will takes a breath of air and starts breathing by himself. He opens his eyes suddenly and observes what is around him. He is lying on his bed, naked, and Hannibal rubs his body with hot towels.

Will tries to speak, but he is so shocked that he is incapable of it. Despite the hot towels, he is frozen stiff and starts trembling.

“That’s it!” Hannibal ejaculates while the young man notices on his lips the sweet taste of some drops of orange juice.

After a few attempts, Will, gathering all his deteriorated strength, manages to sit himself up in the bed.

“At last!” The doctor thinks while his takes his friend by the hand and starts taking his pulse. It’s slow, but steady.

Even he finds it hard, Will is able to say a few words:

“What has happened?”

“You were walking in your sleep again. I found you in the forest."

Will takes his hand to his forehead. His head aches and the light in the room bothers him, despite Hannibal has shaded the bedside lamp with a small white towel.

“It was you the one who undressed me?” The young man asks, still a bit flighty.

“I had no other option. You were soaked.”

“Just one more thing… Did you call me a ’selfish bastard’ and a ‘scoundrel’”?

“I’m sorry, Will. I was nervous. I didn’t know what I was saying.”

And, for the first time in his life, Will Graham can stare at Hannibal Lecter, that thinking machine, that cannibal beast, collapsing like a card house and crying bitterly.

* * *

 

 

At least, sunset has come. Hannibal is giving some finishing touches to the dinner. It is the moment of the that he enjoys the most. He even has designed a menu and has written it in a cardboard, so Will can read it:

APPETIZER: Gazpacho with ham and hard boiled eggs

FIRST COURSE: White asparagus from Navarra with tartar sauce.

SECOND COURSE: Scallops au gratin

THIRD COURSE: Pig sirloin in curry sauce with wild rice

FOURTH COURSE: Selection of Spanish cheeses with nuts, raisins, dried figs and quince jelly

DESSERT: Belgian chocolate cake with matcha

Coffee, tea or chocolate

Red Wine Dominio del Pingus (Spain) (2004)

Hannibal feels happy preparing dinner for Will. “I know it’s not much, but he will be pleased.” He thinks while he warms in a pot the curry he has been doing this morning. He gives a sip to a cup of red wine and stirs the sauce strongly.

In the meantime, Will has taken a bath and gets ready a swallowtail that Hannibal has left for him in the stand. He fastens up the golden metal buttons and adjust his shoelaces.

Hannibal is getting the table ready. He has taken off his apron and wears a blue and grey tartan three piece suit, a white shirt and a black bow tie.

Just when Will goes downstairs, Hannibal is lighting with a long match the red candles of two silver and buffalo horn chandeliers which he has placed in the centre of the table. He goes to the kitchen again and starts serving the gazpacho in two white and blue porcelain bowls. He puts the curry in a pot and leaves it on the kitchen table. He cooks au gratin the scallops in the oven and turns on a very low fire in the stove for the curry. He fills the sauce boat with the tartar sauce for the asparagus and distributes the raisins, the nuts and the figs on the cheeses before giving a sip to his cup of wine. He takes the bottle and the cheeses to the table, where Will has already seated and puts the embroidered white linen on his lap.

“Good evening, doctor Lecter.” Says Will’s bitter voice.

Hannibal answers his companion courtesly and, after uncorking the bottle, he proceeds to serve the first course.

“Gazpacho with ham and hard boiled eggs. Is a cold soup made of tomato, cucumber, garlic, green pepper and onion. It was formerly considered in Spain as a rustic people dish, but today it has refined a lot and many cooks include it in their menus.”

While Hannibal sits, Will moistens his lips with a spoonful of his dish content and closes his eyes.

“Espectacular!”

The psychiatrist pours to his guest a cup of wine while he says with a guffaw:

“Conversation, as some parts of the anatomy, runs more smoothly when it’s lubricated.”

When he hears it, Will breaks into a fit of laughter, nearly chocking trying the wine.

“Doctor Lecter!” He says, scandalized.

As an only answer, Will recieves a smile.

When, some minutes later, the bowls are empty, Hannibal proceeds to serve the next course.

“White asparagus from Navarra with tartar sauce.”

“Another Spanish dish.” Says Will, taking one of the asparagus with his thumb and index finger of his right hand and dipping it into the sauce before biting the shoot. “Delicious!”

Will has only been capable of eating two asparagus, but he wishes to continue dinner.

Hannibal cleans the table and returns to the kitchen. He takes two blue and white glass dishes and puts a bed of seaweed before placing onto it the scallops au gratin and two spoons with a black and white mother of pearl handle.

Dinner continues with no distress. But, when Will finishes his chocolate cup, the psychiatrist throws the bomb and asks his friend the reason of his suicide attempt.

A horror glance sets up in Will’s glaucous eyes as if he just had a horrible vision. Never before Hannibal, that being of exquisite modals, had ask a question in such a sudden manner.

“Possibly, he has done it to take me by surprise and speak without talking around.” He thinks.

The blush that he had been recovering the past days fades away suddenly and his heartbeat speeds up. Will breaths deeply, takes off his glasses and rubs his forehead. He is not capable of finding the words to answer his psychiatrist. He stands up and starts going through the hall with big strides. When at last he is able to settle down, sits again and takes a big breath before answering Hannibal:

“I… I… I think it is going to be very difficult.”

“We have all the night for ourselves.” Says Hannibal in soft voice. “Keep calm. Do you prefer to sit in my office?”

Will shakes his head and says he chooses to speak with Hannibal in his bedroom. When they arrive, Will takes off his jacket and shoes and lies down in the bed.

“Are you comfortable?” Says Hannibal taking off his glasses, which he folds and puts onto the nightstand. “Perfect”.

Will covers his legs and chest with the bed’s blanket and breaths deeply.

“Close your eyes. That’s it. I want you to go to the night of the… twentieth of November. Do you remember what happened?”

Will tries to articulate sounds, but he is incapable of it.

“Without fear.” Says Hannibal. “Only me is listening.”

With many difficulties, Will starts talking to his doctor:

“The twentieth of November. It wasn’t a very special day. I gave my lectures as usual and, when I returned home, I had the worst anxiety attack I have had in my life. I couldn’t breathe, all my body hurt and I had an awful pain everywhere. So, early that morning… Well, you know the rest. If it wasn’t for Jack Crawford coming because I didn’t answer the phone, I could not be here talking to you.”

Will closes his eyes for a moment and in the player downstairs that Hannibal has left turned on because of a moment of distraction trumpets can be heard. Seconds later, Billie Holiday’s bitter voice starts singing:

Summertime, and the livin' is easy...

Then, Will stands up in a jump and goes downstairs to the hall with Hannibal.

“I can resist everything…” Says the young man. “… except temptation. Wasn’t Oscar Wilde the one who said it?"

“It could be.” Hannibal answers while his companion takes him by the hands.

When the song ends, Will says thank you to Hannibal.

“Why?” He asks, puzzled.

“Because you saved my life. Twice.”

And just in the last vibrato of the song, Hannibal feels the brush of Will’s moustache on his nose. It is then when his knees start to shake and thanks with all his soul that both are alive.

THE END

(1)Once I had dwelt on lakes, / once I had been beautiful,/when I was a swan./Poor wretch!/Now black/and well roasted!/The cook turns me back and forth;/I am roasted to a turn on my pyre;/now the waiter serves me./Poor wretch!/Now black/and well roasted!/Now I lie on the dish,/and I cannot fly;/I see the gnashing teeth./Poor wretch!/Now black/and well roasted!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Melancolía](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14679114) by [Cibbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibbs/pseuds/Cibbs)




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